


Drifting

by tenuous_pteradatyl



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Death, Drabble, Emotional Hurt, Ghost Drifting, Hurt, Implied Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenuous_pteradatyl/pseuds/tenuous_pteradatyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What might have happened if Amon had died but came back as a ghost to check up on Lieutenant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drifting

It had unfurled before him like parchment waiting for the calligrapher’s hand. He had seen it out of the corner of his eye, his brother eyeing the gloves on their shelf his hand moving slowly to to put it on. He could’ve stopped him, used that agility he had spent so long honing in training room, after training room to dissuade him but he didn’t move. He only shed a lone tear at the thought of the life that could’ve awaited him, at the life he had just actively destroyed in that room back on the shore. 

He felt the explosion pulse through him, felt the splinters of wood hit his body like a thousand daggers as he fell forward, the front of the boat completely gone, his face the first thing to hit the water. He floated there, the life quietly slipping away from him, once strong hands making feeble attempts to bend water. How easily he could’ve surged forth out of the bay on a spout as he done before, exposing his unscarred face to the crowd. But as he continued to float, and he saw his lifeless brother’s body, not 2 feet away his eyes open yet empty, he knew it would be for the best to let go.

———————————————————————————————

He had never feared death, even now with nothing tethering him to the earthly plane except for his own desire to remain there, he felt oddly at peace. He had returned back to the city on the aftermath of his attack, the benders picking themselves and dusting themselves off, his followers scattered. He returned back to where he had laid Lieu to rest, using a bit of his energy to pick up the planks of wood that had fallen, before he left for whatever awaited him he wanted to gaze at that face one last time. 

But Lieu was nowhere to be found, the only thing that remained were a few drops of blood staining the floor. He felt panicky without another thought he walked himself outside, the warmth of the setting sun not penetrating his incorporeal body. Perhaps the police picked him up he thought, the idea did not settle him. But before he could overthink the situation he was saved, he saw Lieu standing on the shore of the beach, his back to him his figure bent over his mask. Lieu had fished it out of the water, his fingers running over cool porcelain a deep frown set on his face. Had he still been amongst the living he surely would’ve held his breath, he had just brutally betrayed this man, yet here he was pulling his old face out of the bay. He didn’t dare hope that perhaps somewhere Lieu still cared for him. 

Lieu stood up, and looked around one hand cradling the mask, the other holding his side his fingers stained red with his own blood. Amon looked at it with a strong wave of guilt, had he been more tactful, had he just had time to explain himself Lieu wouldn’t have to sustain those injuries now. 

Lieu looked at the old mask again, and threw it to the ground, and raised his foot as if to break it, just as he done to his own. Amon couldn’t blame him, he had been lying to the man since the day they met all those years ago, he probably even thought that his several confessions of love had been lies as well. He looked on as Lieu’s foot remained poised over his mask, his face looked conflicted as his foot continued to hover over the symbol of the revolution, his hands balled into tight and trembling fists. 

After a moment he put his foot down, not on the mask but on the sand of the beach, he looked at it again his lower lip worried with his teeth, a common habit. He shook his head looking a little dejected as he used his foot to swipe sand over Amon’s mask, he continued the action until it was completely covered in the sand. Amon was surprised by his former Lieutenant's actions, and even more surprised that he wasn’t cursing his name in a fit of rage. But Lieu said nothing as he left the beach his feet carrying him back to their old apartment, the one place that felt like home.

——————————————————————————————

Over the weeks that followed he continued to watch Lieu from afar, he would drift in out of the hollow rooms of the apartment they had once shared watching Lieu’s new life take shape. The same day as his death Lieu had gone to a healer, and within a few weeks time he had been back to his usual self. He had kept the apartment even though now it only seemed to stand as yet another in a long string of lies. Amon would sometimes catch Lieu’s expression change to a deep frown as he looked at the beaten front door, his keys jangling as the lock clicked open. 

For Amon his vigils at the apartment had become habitual, he was bound there, unable to move, as if he were stuck in quicksand. He watched his former partner fall into routine, his days consumed with his time at the clinic. He had gone back to his work as the healer, something he seemed to truly enjoy. He would watch him just as he had watched him all those years ago on that small cot in his parent’s house, wrap and tend to the wounds of so many, utterly entranced that even after all those years as his man of war he still had that unyielding compassion. 

Lieu’s nights were racked with nightmares, and so many times he wished he were still alive so he could soothe him, lay in the bed they had shared in life, lead him to that battered and beaten table with the countless watermarks from all the times Lieu had sworn he was using coasters, and never did, where they had spent many a sleepless night drinking tea and speaking in hushed tones about so many things. He spent many nights like that racked with guilt over the pain he had undoubtedly caused the man watching him with baleful eyes from the shadows of the bedroom. 

It was still early in his time there that he saw Lieu with the paper one morning, his hair not yet combed still in his night attire sitting at the table, favorite mug in hand. He had made a habit out of reading the paper long ago when they had first started the revolution he had always said they could easily monitor what was going on in the city by doing this, even when they had picked up a radio, and a transmitter Amon would still find him in their room reading the paper. Lieu’s eyes roamed over the letters quickly, and then he stopped suddenly, his mug fell to the floor, his jaw slack, eyes wide. 

Amon hadn’t realized how much he drifted off into his own thoughts until he heard the noise of broken porcelain and looked over to see what had affected Lieu in such a way. There printed on the front page was the headline, “Amon leader of the equalists found dead in Yue bay”. Underneath the first headline it spoke briefly of his little brother, there was no picture of mangled bodies as he had thought, probably as to not upset the gentle constitutions of the city dwellers but there was however a picture of their charred and splintered boat. Lieu’s eyes raked the words of the article quickly, his eyes moving back and forth over the headline as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. 

Amon was expecting a tirade of some sort, a long string of curses expressing that he had gotten what he had deserved, that this was fate’s way of righting all the wrongs he had committed in life, that this was payback for a lifetime of lies, and cruelty. But Lieu said nothing as he laid the paper on the table, gently smoothing out the creases with scarred and calloused fingers. Wordlessly he got up from the table and walked over to their old bedroom, and traveled over to the bedside table, he opened the first drawer and removed Amon’s old mask, it had been wrapped in cloth as if it were something delicate, something he wished to keep safe. Lieu looked at it, his mouth once again set into a hard line of a frown, his fingers ran over it quickly, almost tenderly from what Amon could tell. 

"I should be happy right about now" Lieu said loudly as if he were addressing the room, and Amon wondered quickly what he would think if he knew the ghost of his former lover were watching him, listening to him right now. "I should be happy but" he cut himself off to sigh loudly, he closed his eyes as if exasperated, and turned his face up to the peeling paint of the ceiling. "I just don’t get it" he continues, his eyes still closed, his face now moved towards the floor "An explosion is what does you in? after all the stuff you’ve faced in your life, all the things you’ve managed to duck and dodge…it’s an explosion that kills you?" he says. 

If he still had a stomach Amon was sure at that moment it would feel as though it were twisting itself in knots, he couldn’t understand Lieu’s behavior, of all people he should be one of the first to rejoice at the news of his death but yet here he is, in their old bedroom, sitting on the bed they had once shared, clutching his mask as if it were a keepsake, asking questions to a seemingly empty room. Lieu laughed for a moment in the silence, a low, hollow sound that made Amon almost feel a chill run through him. “It’s just so hard to believe” he says darkly “Even when things really went bad you always managed to come ok.”

Lieu laid the mask in his lap before continuing, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the porcelain “Like that time when we had just started out. You ran off to try to help those new recruits. You were already badly injured, and there were triad members all over the place. I wanted to help you but you said you were fine…pfft just another lie. Before I could say anything else you had already disappeared. It took me at least an hour to find you, and by the time I did, you could barely stand. I took out 3 triads just to save you, any longer and they would’ve killed you, hell I wanted to kill you myself for making me worry like that.” Lieu stopped for a moment, his eyes opened finally, and Amon was astonished to see tears there, they slid down his face quickly, as he placed a hand over his eyes, something he always used to do when he would cry. 

He watched as Lieu sat there sobbing quietly, his fingers clutched around the mask, his other hand still shielding his eyes as hot tears ran down his face. Amon wanted to comfort him, embrace him but he knew it would only confuse the man further so he stayed away, watching him helplessly from the shadows. The next few days came and went quickly and Lieu once again returned to his routine, before he knew it, days had turned to weeks, and they in turn passed on into months, and suddenly it was 4 months since he had passed on. Lieu no longer pulled out his mask, and in a way Amon was glad for it, perhaps now they could both move on but even with that thought in mind he still couldn’t bring himself to leave. he watched as Lieu continued on with his work as the healer, saw him gain a level of respect in the community that even exceeded the respect he garnered from the other equailsts. 

He saw him bring in new furniture to what used to be their apartment, become friends with a good number of the neighbors, and even to, Amon’s chagrin bring home a date. This was not the first time it had happened, in the past few months he had brought home a few men, and even one woman. They had all seemed incredibly interested in Lieu, some even seemed eager to jump into bed with him right then and there but he had refused all further advances, turned down all future offers for dates, and had always ended up spending the night alone. As grateful as Amon was to not have to witness a night of passion between the man he loved, and some nameless stranger he couldn’t help but wonder why the man was turning down all these offers. One night after a particularly angry man had left Lieu fuming and clutching a stinging handprint on his face he got his answer. Lieu laid there in the quiet darkness of the bedroom, his hands resting behind his head, eyes turned up towards the ceiling, Amon was stationed in the corner as usual, watching Lieu intently, waiting. “It’s funny” he said finally “That guy was eating out of the palm of my hand…if I wanted to he would’ve jumped in my bed in a matter of minutes” he trailed off and laughed for a moment, once again a mirthless sound. 

“But whenever I think I might like that, whenever things get too serious I start thinking about Amon all over again” he says finally, and Amon feels that chill again. “I’m not sure if I should be angry or glad about it” Lieu continues, he rolls over on his side so that Amon has to walk to the other side of the room.

“I wish I could talk to him sometimes…shout at him for lying to us, to me for all this time, yell at him for trying to kill me….yell at him for leaving me here…”. Amon’s eyes widen for a moment, could it be that Lieu is somehow missing him?But why? he thinks he just mentioned his betrayal how could he possibly miss the man who had lied to him for all these years? It was a ridiculous notion. Even so his next few years are consumed with the man, his vigils at the apartment the only thing keeping him tied to the physical world.


End file.
